The Woes and Tribulations of Ronald Bilius Weasley
by fyren galan
Summary: Ron can never catch a break. Especially when Draco Malfoy, Potions essays, and a bit of witty dialogue are involved. Based on my favorite line from Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth. See if you can find it. Draco/Harry SLASH.


The Woes and Tribulations of Ronald Bilius Weasley

Ron sighed. And sighed. And kept on boo-hooing to himself until even Harry (who was normally an easy going guy) wanted to rip out his tongue and Irish step-dance on it.

Finally Hermione took upon herself to relieve his need of overly auditory dramatics. She leaned kindly across the table, and patted his hand. Ron looked up, his face tragically painted just the right shade of misery and a hint of self-pity.

"Ron. Harry and I, we're your best friends, right?" Ron nodded. "So, if you ever need to talk to us about _anything_ at all, we're here for you. Is anything wrong?"

Ron exhaled noisily, and shoved a piece of parchment across the table. Harry and Hermione peered at it for a moment, and then looked up.

"What's this?" Harry asked. "All I see is some scribbles covered in red writing and a large 'T' at the top of the page."

Ron opened his eyes almost comically wide, and worked himself into a tizzy.

"What's this? What's _this_? Oh, only the Potions essay I spent forever and a morning on! I actually thought about what I was going to write, and then took bloody forever to phrase what I wanted to say. Thought it was going to be an Outstanding, easy. But no. Snape blathers on about how he 'can't understand what I'm saying' and that 'all my words are a bunch of dragon dung heaped up and spewed across a piece of parchment,' and etcetera."

Hermione gave the essay a more in-depth examination, and narrowed her eyes. "Ron, I would say that, for once, Snape gave you an accurate grade. I mean, what does 'Schdgeal and Ahodih Pajioh Eaklshg bi Roonil Wazlib' mean?"

Ron looked surprised. "I never said that in there. Where is it? Oh, you mean 'Supremely and Awesome Potions Essay by Ronald Weasley'. How did you not know that?"

Hermione scowled at him. "Of course I know that, Ronald! But how am I supposed to know that your childish incomprehensible doodles equate to a statement like that. I mean, Merlin's Beard! Did you even spell a single word right in the whole fucking essay?"

Ron turned up his nose at her. "Hermione, people with my mental power do not _need_ to spell words correctly. We merely convey our brilliance with the general idea so that people less intelligent than us can feebly grasp at our astounding concepts. Clearly you and Snape reside in the latter category."

Hermione gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a blowfish. Her surrounding aura darkened, and she was about to let loose a spell that would let Ron _feel_ how smart she was. Unfortunately for her, Draco Malfoy chose that exact moment to slide in between her and Harry, and start making out with him. After several moments of Ron convulsing with disgust and Hermione scientifically observing them, they came up for air. Draco then slung his left arm around Harry, and began calmly eating the eggs off Hermione's plate.

He swallowed, then asked, "How come you look like a house elf in labor, Weasley?"

Hermione immediately began her tirade about how house elves didn't deserve to be used as insults, but both Draco and Ron waved her off.

Ron spewed, "Snape gave me a Troll on my Potions essay, just because he couldn't bloody read it because of my spelling."

Draco nodded wisely, and replied, "Wow, mate. That seems really harsh. I mean, people with your mental power don't need to spell words correctly. You merely convey your brilliance with the general idea so that people like us can feebly grasp at your astounding concepts."

Hermione and Harry spluttered (Hermione at a loss for words, and Harry just had a piece of bacon go down the wrong way), and Ron beamed. "See, Hermione? I knew there had to be someone clever enough to understand my reasoning."

Draco nodded wisely again (he was beginning to look like an Einstein bobble head), and said, "I do, Ron, but this punishment seems way too horrible to lie down and take. You should do something about this."

Ron agreed eagerly and enthusiastically, but then frowned, his face a perfect cast of slight confusion. "But what? What can I possibly do to Snape? I can't curse him or hit him; he's a Professor."

Draco leaned forward. "Words. Attack him with his own weapon of choice that he used against you. So here's what you should do-"

At this point Draco's entire upper body was across the table, and he whispered his plan into Ron's ear. Ron dipped his head up and down, as a growing enlightenment shadowed his profile. He got up, and strode determinately out of the Great Hall.

Draco yelled after him, "Go stick it to the Man!"

Everyone looked at him bewilderingly, but he shrugged, and said they would understand later.

oOo

Draco and Harry walked in to Potions class hand in hand. Hermione glared at them disapprovingly, as if to tell them: _If you hadn't snogged on the way here, you could've been a full two minutes earlier. _But they ignored her. They always did.

Draco had actually cut their session short (Harry was quite disappointed) because he wanted to get to class early. Something he couldn't miss, he said.

They sat in their usual seats, Draco and Harry in the back row, and Ron and Hermione in the front. And they waited, albeit impatiently, for Snape to menacingly flow in late like he did every day.

Draco bounced up and down impatiently, waiting for the black robe to swirl through the door. And he wasn't disappointed, as thirty seconds later Snape did just that.

"Cease talking, you bumbling lot of morons! Today's potion will no doubt be incomprehensible to most of you idiots, but I am prepared to take that risk. Instructions are on-"

Snape stopped speaking and stared, as did the rest of the class.

"Did you have something you wanted to say, Mr. Weasley?" he sneered as he gazed at Ron, who was standing up defiantly. "Perhaps, something about your recent, shall we call it, essay? I think I was quite lenient in the grading, giving you a Troll instead of a zero. Must have been one of my more sentimental days. Yes, terribly kind, I was, especially considering your atrocious spelling-"

Ron took a deep breath, and blurted, "A slavish concern for the composition of words is the sign of a bankrupt intellect!"

Snape just about died from an apoplectic rage.

Draco just about died laughing.

Ron just about died.

FIN.

A/N: Hullo, world! Nice to see you again!

Sigh. I haven't written anything in forever. But here you go. Have fun with it!


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